Part 74 (1/2)
CHAPTER VII--COSETTE SIDE BY SIDE WITH THE STRANGER IN THE DARK
Cosette, as we have said, was not frightened.
The man accosted her. He spoke in a voice that was grave and almost ba.s.s.
”My child, what you are carrying is very heavy for you.”
Cosette raised her head and replied:--
”Yes, sir.”
”Give it to me,” said the man; ”I will carry it for you.”
Cosette let go of the bucket-handle. The man walked along beside her.
”It really is very heavy,” he muttered between his teeth. Then he added:--
”How old are you, little one?”
”Eight, sir.”
”And have you come from far like this?”
”From the spring in the forest.”
”Are you going far?”
”A good quarter of an hour's walk from here.”
The man said nothing for a moment; then he remarked abruptly:--
”So you have no mother.”
”I don't know,” answered the child.
Before the man had time to speak again, she added:--
”I don't think so. Other people have mothers. I have none.”
And after a silence she went on:--
”I think that I never had any.”
The man halted; he set the bucket on the ground, bent down and placed both hands on the child's shoulders, making an effort to look at her and to see her face in the dark.
Cosette's thin and sickly face was vaguely outlined by the livid light in the sky.
”What is your name?” said the man.